


Feral Rapunzel's First Christmas

by BalunStormhands



Category: Tangled (2010)
Genre: Feral Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-15
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-21 04:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BalunStormhands/pseuds/BalunStormhands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Tangled AU Christmas Special<br/>Author’s Note: This story takes place in my Feral Princess AU, so I am going to post that story in here so the entire story is in one place for your convenience. I cleaned things up a bit with better grammar. </p><p>The premise is what if Gothel had been a truly heartless witch and locked the princess in the room under the stairs and treated her as merely a magical object and not a human being. Rapunzel, Solara in this story, is one of those poor, feral, closet children that show up on the news from time to time. Tragic beyond belief. This story will be posted daily until Christmas Eve.</p><p>The story continues with some of the after effects and what Christmas might be like for the princess and the kingdom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

~ Flynn Rider and the Feral Princess  
\- Chapter 1

Flynn Rider slammed the shutters closed, finally safe from that stupid (okay, not so stupid) horse.

“Alone at last.” Flynn said as he opened the satchel and pulled out the crown. He moved to a tall thin window and held it in the light, the jewels sparkling in the light. The three huge jewels that were most prominent on the crown were amazing. He found himself counting and categorizing all the lesser jewels that encrusted the crown as well. He had a buyer all ready and after ditching the Stabbington brothers he was going to take their cuts as well, more then enough for his island.

Soon enough though the excitement over the crown wore off and he looked around. The room was plain, there were a couple of chairs (the red one looked comfy enough), a wardrobe (he'd want to check that out for valuables), a spinning wheel (big deal), a neat little kitchen (he'd rummage through that, he was beginning to get hungry), a hole in the floor (he mentally kicked himself for not walking around the tower there must be stairs and an entrance on the back side), and yards and yards what what looked to be dirty blonde hair leading under a door under the stairs.

Flynn wandered over and gave some a tug. There as a gasp, a clank of chain and then a sweet angelic voice began to sing. He dropped the hair as it began to glow and backed away but tripped and landed on more, and found himself feeling a lot better.

The glow faded and now he was curious. He opened the door and found a girl, with chains on her wrists, huddled in the corner whimpering. She was pulling the hair around her trying to hide in it.

“It's okay, I won't hurt you.” He crouched and held out his hand, but she whimpered and scrambled to a different corner, upsetting a small bucket that smelled of urine.

Eugene's heart was going out to this poor child. She looked so tiny and skinny, 12-14 years-old maybe. There had been a few children in the orphanage that had been taken from their parents who had been hurting them. What had happened to them had been heartbreaking. Trying to comfort their nightmares had been awful. 

Parents should love their children, to hate and hurt their own children was wrong at the most fundamental level. A coal of anger began to glow in his belly, but first he knew he had to gain her trust a little so he could get her out of here. No one deserved this kind of life, no one!

Then he heard echoing steps from the hole in the floor. He closed the door, covered his mouth with a finger, she nodded and he dove under the girl's bed.

Soon the door creaked open again and he could see the hem of a red dress and some leather shoes walk over to the spill.

The shoes turned toward the corner of the mass of hair.

“You are a bad girl. A messy, disgusting girl. Why do I even bother taking care of you? Get over here and clean it up!”

Flynn felt his stomach clench as the girl scrambled over and began to lick up the urine from the floor. His anger was building. How dare that mother hurt her own child this way! But he didn't know if there was a father around here somewhere, he needed to be careful. He might want to pick up the bed and slam it down on the mother, but she could get the drop on him before he got out and then he wouldn't be able to get the girl out of here.

He had to wait just a little while and then he'd be able to get her out of here and sneak her into the orphanage, the headmistress had a heart as big as the kingdom and had been able to help some very hurt children, but they always had problems ever after. She would know how to help even this poor girl.

“Just to make sure you don't do that again, you are to get a punishment.”

The girl was whimpering and moaning in fear. The mother was standing in front of the bed blocking him in and he could see the girl prostrate herself in front of the mother, hands flat on the ground between the mother's shoes, those huge green eyes full of fear looking right at him.

There was the sound of the leather belt coming down, the smack of it against the girl's bottom and a scream. “I’m a bad girl, one.”

Eugene had thought the mother would stop at 25 which was the law in the kingdom, but she kept going. He put his hands out as close as he dared and laid them in front of the girls hands. He was praying she would stop at 40 which was the tradition from the Bible, but she just kept going. He was weeping as they past 100, but he couldn't avert his eyes as the girl just kept looking at him, holding his heart with her eyes.  
He was weak with relief when they stopped. Five hundred lashes, he could hardly believe it. He'd been lashed a few times, but now he was wondering how this scrap of a girl could survive this. He'd been in other kingdoms that actually killed people by lashing and it didn't take that many.

“Sing!”

The girl began to sing, and the hair glowed and he could see her body heal before his eyes.

“Very good, you took your punishment well. Good girl.” The happiness in the girl's face ripped his heart out of his chest. It was so utterly twisted and wrong. Eugene had to help this girl!

“It's your 18th birthday tomorrow, and for taking your punishment so well ...I think I'll give you something nice, how about some hazelnut soup, your favorite?” The girl nodded and crawled up to the mother and stroked her leg like a cat.

Eugene knew what hazelnut soup was, he had eaten enough of it himself. The poorest of the poor eat that because there was nothing else, but dirt to eat! What did this mother feed her child that made hazelnut soup a treat? She was 18!? She looked 14 tops. How could a mother do that to her own child, twisting even the body of her child like that?

Burning hate was trying to consume him, but he knew he had to get the girl to safety first, no other consideration outweighed that. He would deal with the mother personally later. Soon he saw the mother climb down the ladder and clatter down the steps.

He cautiously crawled out from under the bed.

“Would you like to leave?”

She looked at him puzzled.

“I can take you away from here.”

She didn't understand.

“If you come with me, there will be no more punishments,” he gestured.

That got her attention. She held out her wrists with the shackles on them.

“I can get you out of them.” Flynn the thief said confidently. They sat on the bed and he opened the satchel and put the crown to one side as he dug around for his lock picks.

The girl was looking at the crown and gingerly picked it up. Eugene was just about to take one of her hands to start working on the lock when she plopped the crown lopsidedly on her head and gave a babyish giggle.

Eugene's mouth dropped open. “Solara?”

The girl looked at him in wide-eyed wonder, then giggled again.

He knew exactly who this girl was. 18 years old, blonde hair, green eyes. How often had he stared at the mosaic in the square?

She was the Lost Princess.

He had found the Lost Princess, one of his childhood dreams.

He had take her to the palace, he had no choice, praying the guards didn't kill him before he could tell them who she was.

Tears filled his eyes, because he knew that she would never be normal, and could never be the princess she had been born to be.


	2. Eugene Fitzherbert Frees the Feral Princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eugene gets the the Lost Princess out of the tower and away from Gothel.

\- Chapter 2  
~ Eugene Fitzherbert Frees the Feral Princess

Eugene worked his lock-picks into the shackles. He could feel the rust in the mechanism. How many years had it been since they were last opened? 

Solara whimpered as his face screwed up in anger. 

“It’s okay. I’m sorry, it’s just a bit rusty. I’ll get you out in just a minute.” Eugene said trying to reassure the Lost Princess and calm himself. Then the lock clicked and the shackled fell free. 

Solara just stared at her free wrist for a long moment while Eugene got to work on the other. She started moving her free wrist around, a look of wonder on her face as her arm felt so weightless without the heavy shackle on it or having to move her other arm with it.

“There you go. You’re finally free,” said Eugene, smiling, as the other lock clicked open. 

Solara turned and jumped around the room, her arms flailing wildly as she felt so free. Eugene smiled, as he caught the crown, that flew off her head. She was sure taking delight in her new found freedom. 

Then she turned and his jaw dropped to his chest. She didn’t have clothes on, but even that was the least of what he saw. She was eighteen years old and she looked like the skeleton of a little girl! He could clearly see her ribs and collar bones, the muscles of her arms and legs, even the veins and organs in her belly were outlined by her pale skin. How could the kidnapper treat the princess like this!? Worse than an animal. It was like she was starving the princess to death!

Solara stopped jumping, whimpered and backed herself into the corner opposite him as anger enflamed his eyes, covering herself with her hair. 

Eugene was beginning to understand she was afraid of people being angry and after what he had seen the kidnapper do to her he could understand why. 

“I’m sorry, it’s okay. You need clothes. Do you know where the clothes are?” He plucked at his vest, not sure if she even knew the word for clothes.

Solara, with a scared look on her face, shook her head.

Eugene tried to smile, “It’s okay, we’ll find something.” 

Stuffing the crown and his tools back into his satchel he went to the main room and strode over to the wardrobe. He dug around in it for a little while. Why did women’s clothes have to be so complicated? He finally chose what looked like a blue nightgown, it was much too big for the princess, but it would be simple enough to cover her.

Solara peeked out of her room as he ransacked the wardrobe, she padded up to him, and peered over his shoulder at what he was doing. Eugene shoved the dress at her, which she caught and said, “Here, put that on. I’m going to check the kitchen.” 

He strode over to the kitchen area and tried to see if there was any food handy. She needed to eat something. There were braids of onions, shallots and garlic; useless, he didn’t have time to cook them. The bread he found was stale and hard, the cheese was moldy; both useless. The apples were good though, so he stuffed a few in his satchel.

Eugene turned and found Solara still standing there with the nightgown, gently stroking the soft fabric against her cheek. He sighed, “Princess, we have to hurry. The kidnapper may be back anytime. Please, put on the dress.”

She just looked at him like she didn’t understand. Bringing the Lost Princess home might earn him a pardon, but bringing her home naked would just get him killed. 

He took the dress from her and gathered up the fabric and put it over her head. She just stood there, her arms inside the nightgown, her mouth open like a codfish, looking down at it, like it was the strangest thing ever. It was on backwards too.

“Okay, let’s try that again,” said Eugene apologetically, as he took off the nightgown and turned it around. 

“Hands up, please,” and he held up his hands up as he wanted her to do. She held up her arms too, he slipped the nightgown over her head, got her arms in the holes and he realized the hair was inside the nightgown now. 

Eugene groaned as he took the nightgown off the princess again. This was taking too much time! He was much better at getting girls out of their clothes than into them, but this was getting ridiculous. The look she was giving him told him she was thinking the same thing. 

“This has got to be the strangest thing I’ve ever done!” The thief declared. This time he had the princess step into the nightgown as he held it out for her and pulled it up so it covered her without the hair being under it.

“There, that’s the way to do it.” Eugene declared with some satisfaction, smiling, once it was on her. 

It draped over her like a circus tent, but she was covered. She started flapping the overly-long sleeves like a bird. Solara smiled back, responding to his smile. She began to twist and enjoyed the feeling of the fabric moving around her legs. 

“Come on, let’s go. I’m going to take you to your parents.” He spotted a cloak by the window, grabbed it and put it over her shoulders to keep her warm.

* * *

At the bottom of the stairs, the Lost Princess stopped. Her toes at the edge of the bright sunlight. It was like a line, one she had never known before and she was so scared. 

“Come on. We have to get out of here.” Eugene said anxiously, as he looked toward the exit to the canyon.

Solara could only look with pleading eyes toward the stranger who was taking her away from pain and darkness. What was light and love like?

Eugene looked around, he needed to get her moving, the kidnapper could show up at any time. She had somehow snuck into the royal nursery, stolen the baby Solara and vanished. He should be able to take her in a fight, but she seemed like a good sized woman. However, she was a lot younger then she was supposed to be. That threw magic into the mix and the was dangerous. The smart thing to do was get the princess away and safe first. 

Eugene spotted a patch of dandelions. He carefully grabbed a few and went back to the door. “Look at this,” he said and blew at one of them.

“Ooo,” the princess cooed and stepped out of the tower and into the light. She squinted her eyes against the light as he handed her one of the flowers. 

She blew on it and it was so wonderful to see the seeds fly. She chased after them until she felt grass under her feet, which was strange and new and tickled her feet. She lay down on the grass and rolled around. 

“Princess, see, another one.” Solara saw Eugene hold out another flower. She got up and reached for it, but he pulled it away slightly. She looked at him but there was a smile on his face. He was playing with her. Soon they were running through the exit and out into the world.

She stopped stunned. The trees were so big and beautiful. Everything was green and amazing. She felt a tickle on her cheek. Eugene had stroked her with a bright red flower, and he trotted off. She smiled and chased after him.

But she couldn’t run very far. She was getting tired, she had no energy reserves in her body to speak of, the magic had been keeping her barely alive. She hadn’t eaten in so long, there was hardly anything left for moving around. So she began to walk.

Eugene saw how tired she was looking and slowed. They were passing by some caves. He gave her the flower, there were plenty of others. She took it and stroked it against her lips and cheek. 

Eugene took out a pair of apples and gave one to Solara. She just held it.   
“You can eat it, it’s okay.” He encouraged her as he bit into his own apple. She watched him, she held up the apple to her lips but she couldn’t get her mouth open enough to bite the apple. She hadn’t opened her mouth that wide in a very long time and the tight muscles didn’t let her.

“Here, let me cut that for you. That way you can eat it,” said Eugene pulling out a knife. 

Solara saw the knife and panicked. “Knife bad,” she screamed and dashed into a nearby dark cave, a safe looking place to her. She curled up and rocked back and forth, afraid and so tired. She cried for a few minutes and then fell asleep.


	3. The Feral Princess Reaches the Palace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eugene makes it to the palace with the girl he knows is the lost princess. She passes the test and Gothel is captured.

\- Chapter 3  
~ The Feral Princess Reaches the Palace

Eugene Fitzherbert was trudging though the dark forest of the night. He couldn't stop. Something inside him pushed him to keep going. 

He was carrying the Lost Princess now, she had fallen asleep long ago. She wasn’t waking up, but she was breathing. The long golden hair trailed along behind them, at least it wasn’t getting in the way. He had no way to carry that too, but it scared him deeply how light she was. The cloak she was wearing was the heaviest thing on her.

A lost child needed to be with her parents again. He had lost his own parents to the darkness of death, but he knew her parents still lived and where. She had to be returned home. Nothing else mattered to him anymore. A family deserved to be together.

How many times could his heart be broken? His emotions churned. Why did the kidnapper treat the princess like an animal? Worse than an animal!

She had been chained up, naked, in a dark room. As far as he could tell she had never seen the sun or even outside since the kidnapping. She couldn’t even get her mouth open enough to bite into an apple. Had the kidnapper not even fed her solid food!?

The princess was afraid of knives, afraid enough to run from him and into a dark cave. His stomach clenched. What had the kidnapper done to her!? 

He would carry her to the palace, her real home, with her real parents, no matter the cost. The palace would have food and clothes and everything she needed that he didn’t have for her. It wasn’t all that far now. She had to be able to live that long. She just had too. He could not stop! He would not stop!

* * *

After ages, Eugene Fitzherbert was on the road near the island. He could smell the sea. The road curved and he could see the torches at the end of the bridge, and then men moving in the light.

“Help! Please, help us!” Eugene called. He saw soldiers take up torches and run toward him, the breastplates and swords reflecting the torchlight.

“We’re coming! What’s wrong?” called a soldier.

“Help us. I found the Lost Princess. Please, she needs help. She's ...in bad shape.” He begged, tears running down his cheeks, as he admitted to himself her condition. 

Torches were running toward them. The guards skidded to stop as they saw Flynn Rider’s face in the torchlight. They pointed their swords at him.

“Yes, I know. I'm Flynn Rider. I surrender myself. I have the crown here in my satchel. But none of that matters, we need to help the princess. Please,” he begged, offering them anything to get them to help her. He swung his hip slightly to reveal the satchel. His legs burned as he stood still for the first time in hours.

They cautiously surrounded him and signaled for more men.

The princess woke up to his shouts. All the light and men was scaring her and she threw herself around his neck, holding on for dear life. 

“Please, she needs a doctor, and the headmistress of the orphanage, and her parents, and food, and please, please, take us to the palace, please.” Eugene begged, standing here was not getting her closer to the palace.

The guards looked at each other, they had orders to bring in all claiming to be the Lost Princess, but this was Flynn Rider. Yet he was begging for help like a hurt child.

The Captain of the Guard and another squad arrived. He had been inspecting the security lockdown of the island. Everyone was being checked. He had gotten back to the island with the Stabbington Brothers after Flynn had knocked him off of his horse. He was still hurting from that and Maximus was still missing too. The Captain had sent out more squads of men and horses, they’d be tracking Flynn Rider all the way to the border and beyond.

The Captain of the Guard stopped in front of Flynn Rider, his sword out and steady at the thief.   
“Rider... What are you up to?” He rumbled quietly, then he looked suspiciously out into the dark forest. Several men turned outward, making a perimeter, expecting an attack from the forest. Others kept their weapons on Rider expecting him to do something.

“This is not a trick! We are alone! Please, sir. I know you want me, take me if you want but we need to get the princess to a doctor quickly, just look at her,” begged the man known to all as Flynn Rider, swinging the princess toward the light of the torches.

The girl burrowed herself into the shoulder of Flynn Rider, but she peeked out with a scared look on her face. She had huge green eyes and blonde hair, but the terrible tight skin and prominent bones made her look almost monstrous in the torchlight. The hands locked around Flynn’s neck looked so much like his grandmother’s withered hands. The girl looked, at once too young and too old, to actually be the Lost Princess, but what could Flynn Rider possibly gain with this rouse? Rider already had the crown. What more was there to steal?

“We are obligated to take anyone claiming to be the Lost Princess to the palace to be Tested,” scowled the Captain of the Guard, his sword still held steady at Rider’s chest. “But if you try anything, Rider. Anything at all. I will personally end you.” His eyes bore into Eugene’s.

“Done!” agreed Eugene. “Please, let’s get to the palace. And send for the Headmistress of the Orphanage, please. She’s dealt with abused and starved children before. She will know how to help.”

They started to trudge forward, the hair slithers over the ground. “Uh, is this ...hair?” Private Conli asked holding up his torch and looking back into the forest.

“Yes, it goes back 50 feet, probably more. Don’t ask why, I have no idea. This is how I found her,” said Eugene, trying to skirt around the glowing hair thing he had seen. She needed to be cared for first they could worry about the hair later. “Could someone pick it up, please. It’ll make it easier to carry her.”

The Captain of the Guard nodded curtly and Conli gathered up the hair and carried it as Flynn Rider hurried them to the palace.

The Captain of the Guard sent runners ahead and had half his men surround Flynn Rider, just in case this was some bizarre trick.

* * *

They found the seneschal, the royal doctor and the headmistress of the orphanage in the candlelit testing chamber. The room was warm and smelled of honey from all the candles burning around the room.

“Eugene, you've been a bad boy,” chided the headmistress, matter-of-factly, as the older woman pushed herself up from one of the chairs by the desk. The princess whimpered at the word 'bad.'

“I know, I’m sorry about that, but I'm not anymore,” said Eugene looking down at the princess. “Please, she needs help.”

“Put her here on the sofa, we’ll need to evaluate her first.” The doctor said.

Eugene tried to put her on the sofa, but she whimpered and clung tighter to him.

"It's okay dear, we're trying to help you. It's okay." The headmistress says in gentle, comforting tones. Eugene feels her death grip on him loosen a little.

“They are good people and will help you,” said Eugene as he tried to reassure the princess. “I’ve known her my whole life and she is a good person.” 

“Good?” asked the princess her massive green eyes looking deeply into his hazel eyes.

“Yes, good. They are good and will be good to you,” said Eugene confidently. The princess let go of Eugene and sat curled up in a corner of the sofa.

“You are a good girl,” reassured the headmistress. Many abused children knew the word bad, but it looked like the princess knew the word good as well. 

“Good,” stated the princess with a happy smile and put her arms around the headmistress. Who hugged the frail child gently, cooed and rocked her. The headmistress had rehabilitated several children that had been found starved and dying. She had not been able to save all of them. The princess looked worse then any of them.

The doctor turned toward the guards, "You better wait outside, this will get rather personal for her soon."

The Captain frowned at Flynn Rider. 

“I’ll stay with you,” said Eugene. The Captain nodded. They and the other men turned toward the doors of the testing chamber. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” grunted the princess as she saw him leaving. She had her arms out toward him and was making grabbing gestures.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ll just be outside those doors. Just like when I got you your clothes. They will stay with you. It will be good.” Eugene went back and reassured the princess again, but many people traded glances over what it meant for Flynn Rider to have gotten the girl clothes.

The princess looked scared, and held onto the headmistress, but let Eugene leave as the headmistress and doctor began to examine her.

* * *

As soon as the doors closed, Eugene let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. As a child in the orphanage, he had been a rock to some of the kids, helping them though the pain and loss of not having a family anymore. The princess was going to have her family back, but they needed a rock as they dealt with the consequences of the kidnapping. Flynn Rider had gotten him out of the orphanage, but he needed to be Eugene Fitzherbert again. He needed to be himself again.

He leaned over and put his hands on his shaking knees. He really needed to sit and rest for a while. He walked a lot further today then he had expected and he certainly didn’t expect to end up here of all places.

The seneschal and the Captain of the Guard came up to Eugene. “So, what’s the story, Rider? Where did you find her?” The seneschal asked.

“Eugene. My real name is Eugene Fitzherbert.” Eugene said straightening, inside and out.

The seneschal and the captain traded glances, they hadn’t known that about the thief, and somehow he looked completely different from how he had a moment ago.

"The kidnapper lives in a tower that is very well hidden in a canyon behind a wall of vines. Do you have a map? Excellent! If I remember this morning correctly, you chased me through here....” Between the Captain and Eugene they sketched out approximately where the tower was.

“She’s probably been back since and is looking for the princess in the forest. Unless she will be back tomorrow morning. She left to make some hazelnut soup for the princess’ birthday as a reward for taking her punishment so well.” Eugene’s fists clenched as he remembered that.

“Punishment?” The Captain asked.

“She was lashed 500 times because she spilt the bucket of her own urine, which she also had to lick up.” Eugene stated grimly. The seneschal gasped and the Captain of the Guard ground his teeth together as he flexed his hands over and over. 

“Last I saw her. She was wearing brown leather half boots, a red dress and black cloak. You’re going to have to be careful. She looks a lot younger then the wanted posters make her out to be, about 25 with curly black hair. Since the princess is also looking young, we have to assume she is a witch.”

“Of course she’s a witch. That would explain so much.” Rumbled the Captain of the Guard sarcastically. “We’ll search the forest and set a trap at that tower of hers. Conli keep your squad here and keep an eye on Rider. I’m going to the barracks to rouse the troops. We’re going to drop on the kidnapper like a ton of bricks.”

* * *

The maid invited them back in. The princess held out her arms toward Eugene who sat next to her on the sofa. She climbed onto his lap and put her head on his shoulder. 

“Normally, I would listen to the story the Lost Princess candidate had, but under the circumstances it would be best to get to the heart of the test.” The seneschal said as he went to his desk and withdrew a pair of scissors.

“Scissors bad! Scissors bad!” screamed the girl. She clambered over Eugene and the sofa. She scurried into a corner, pulled her hair close around her and wept in utter terror.

After a shocked second of trying to comprehend what was happening, the headmistress spun on the stunned seneschal and commanded him in her most no nonsense voice, “Put those away, now!”

The seneschal flung them back into drawer and slammed it shut, almost catching his fingers.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” said Eugene as he went over to the girl. She threw her arms around him and burrowed into his chest.

“You’re a good girl. Nothing bad will happen to you. You’re a good girl. We won’t hurt you,” said the headmistress kindly, also approaching.

It took time for the weeping girl to calm down. As the seneschal and the doctor looked on in confusion.

“Something I forgot to mention is that she doesn’t like knives. I tried to slice an apple for her, because she couldn’t get her mouth open enough for a whole apple and she reacted much the same way,” explained Eugene.

“It’s okay, but thanks for saying it now,” said the headmistress to Eugene. She turned to the girl and stroked her head. “Why are scissors bad?” She asked as gently as she knew how.

The girl picked up some of her hair and said, “No cut. Scissors bad. Cut punish. No punish. No punish.” She pleaded.

“Cutting your hair is bad and you would be punished?” Checked the headmistress.

The girl nodded and held on tight to Eugene. 

“You are a good girl and we won’t let anyone punish you,” stated the headmistress with iron firmness. 

The girl looked at the fierceness in the headmistress of the orphanage and believed her. She nodded and began to relax.

The headmistress levered herself up and stalked over to the seneschal. The seneschal gave ground as she came up to him. 

“Okay, spill it. What is the test?” She demanded in no uncertain terms.

“Um...,” he said looking over to Flynn Rider.

“Tell me! She cannot afford another panic attack. I’m not even sure what is keeping her alive at this point. We can’t have this test hanging over us. We need to take care of her now! What is it?” The steel in her voice brooked no argument.

The seneschal looked around feeling like a caged animal, then he sighed, “This is top secret information, but I guess we have no choice and I haven’t found any way to duplicate it in any case. The test is simple to administer, if not easy to explain. We found a lock of hair in the crib of the princess, it was brown. Yes, we know the princess is blonde.” He held up the vial with the lock of hair in it, but glanced at the blonde girl huddled in the corner with Eugene.

“Since the king and queen saw enough to know the kidnapper was an old woman. This hair had no grey in it. So the logical conclusion was that this lock of hair was from the babe and it changed because of the magic, golden flower the queen drank. The brown lock looks very much like the queen’s hair but there are reflections of light in it. The test is to cut some hair which should turn brown and compare. It would definitively identify the princess.”

The headmistress thought about that for a while, it seemed to all fit together.

“In our examination we did find that lock of short brown hair on the back of her head. I didn’t think much of it because we were looking for injuries and infestations,” added the doctor. The seneschal looked sharply at the doctor at this news.

“Very well. I’ll see if I can convince her. Be ready to act quickly.” She went over to Eugene and the girl.

Kneeling before them she held out her arms. The girl turned and hugged her. “You are a good girl. We will never punish you for cutting your hair. Good girl, no punish,” said the headmistress to the girl leaning into her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around the girl and gestured for Eugene to hold them as well. 

“We need to find out who you are. He needs to cut your hair. We will not punish you or let you be punished for it. We love you. We will protect you.” The girl nodded. The headmistress turned her head slightly and nodded. The seneschal moved quietly and quickly, pulling out the scissors and snatching up an end of hair and snipped the end, the end in his hand turned brown as did the long length running up to her temple.

The princess Solara saw the brown run pass her and she started shaking and keening in despair, hugging the headmistress with all her might.

Eugene was repeating, “Good girl, good girl, good girl.” 

The headmistress was cooing and rocking them back and forth. In moments the girl tired again and fell asleep. They picked her up and moved back to the sofa. Eugene held her in a protective embrace on his lap.

"She is the Lost Princess, the Princess Solara," the seneschal of the Kingdom of Corona declared, but there is no joy in his voice, just the sound of tears. How could he explain this to the royals? 

“She has been terribly abused by the kidnapper. She is starved and malnourished, but she appears otherwise healthy. No obvious injuries or marks. She appears to have the mentality of a young child,” summed up the doctor.

The Seneschal nodded, stood and left the testing chamber.

"How is she still alive?" asked Eugene. "I saw her lick up her own urine and then watched as she was lashed 500 times."

The headmistress just shook her head, she had seen so many awful abuses. She had cleaned up one child that had lived in his own feces. Others had multiple broken bones and worse. Starving children had been recovered from the forest from time to time. She had tried to nurse them back to health, not all had been strong enough. The princess was the worst she had ever seen. The headmistress was not sure if the princess would survive.

If the guards failed, she knew some older orphans, out on their own now, that could deal with the kidnapper.

"It sounds like some kind of magical effect, the flower her mother the queen ingested had healing properties. She must have inherited something from that," said the royal doctor. “Though why she looks so young is a mystery.”

“The kidnapper was looking young too, about 25. My guess is that the kidnapper is a witch and cast a spell to make them young to make them hard to find.”

“Do you think the kidnapper took the princess to be a spell component?” asked the headmistress.

“That would be my guess,” said Eugene.

“I’m not so sure. It doesn’t look like there are any marks on the child. Blood, hair or skin are often used. Urine and feces are possible, but why would she have had to lick it up,” the doctor said.

"Can we give her something to eat, please? I have no idea when the last time she ate was, and I'm scared she might not last much longer. She keeps falling asleep so much.” Eugene asked fearfully. The digression had taken precious time.

They looked at each other, nodded and the headmistress said, "Broth, she needs warm broth. Children this bad off... Well, I've ever seen anyone this far gone and still be alive, but they could only handle broth. It'll take time to build her up to solid food safely."

The doctor gave quiet orders to the maid who ran off.

The seneschal escorted the royal couple in.

The queen looked so scared to Eugene, but he nodded and encouraged them to come over, as the doctor and headmistress got up and consulted in a corner. The princess was asleep on his shoulder as he cradled her gently, holding her like her would never let go.

The king supported his wife as they got close enough to see their partially grown-up baby. The queen fell to her knees before them. Tears filled the eyes of the royal couple as they saw the deeply sunken cheeks, the hard outline of her bones under the thin skin of their daughter. 

“Oh my baby, my poor baby, I'm so sorry,” she wept, her shaking hand reached out to touch her baby’s brow.

The princess roused from hearing the weeping, turned and looked at her mother.

“My dear Solara, you're home again. You're home. We'll keep you safe,” promised the queen.

“Ma-ma?” There were few memories in the princess beyond the dark room, but the magic had kept them alive all these years.

The queen's heart imploded as she saw the muscles move around the mouth of her daughter, the deep lines of the muscles and bones sharply outlined under the skin.

"Yes, mama. I'm your mama." A smile bloomed through the tears.

The lost princess reached out and pulled her mama close, put her forehead to her mama's and with a giggle, puts her arms around her mama and held on tight. With great wracking sobs the queen holds her abused baby for the first time in eighteen years with her whole soul.

"So, Flynn Rider brings my little girl home," said the king, as he sat next to the former thief.

"Not anymore. My real name is Eugene Fitzherbert." Eugene took off the satchel and handed it to the king, "This is yours. I'm sorry for taking it."

"If stealing the crown let you find our daughter, I can forgive that. What happened?" asked the king.

Eugene told the story, as the maid came in with a tray.

Everyone gathered around, as the maid handed the princess, sitting on her mama's lap, a tea cup of broth. The princess just held it, with a puzzled expression. She was fed only very rarely from a battered metal bowl on the floor, though she did get a bucket of water to drink and clean with. Gothel knew the hair would keep her alive, so why waste perfectly good food on her?

The headmistress came over, and with a very gentle look on her face took the cup, held it in her hands and showed the princess how to take a sip, smiled and made appreciative sounds, then handed it back. 

The princess took a sip of the rich, protein-laden liquid. Her eyes went wide as her tastebuds screamed in need for it and sloshed the whole thing into her mouth and swallowed. After licking the cup and her fingers that had picked up the spills on the sides of her mouth, she shyly looked at the headmistress, who asked gently, "More?" holding out her hand.

"More,” Solara said, tentatively holding out the cup, looking scared but hopeful. She was always hungry, but the kidnapper never let her have more. The headmistress took the cup and handed it back to the maid, though the doctor warned, "Slowly, we don't want to make her sick by feeding her too quickly."

The princess watched carefully, as everyone took their time refilling the cup and handing it back to the princess. Solara cautiously held out her hand and took the cup. She slurped it down greedily and asked "More?"

Then the guards brought in the prisoner. The kidnapper was strictly shackled, heavy chains went from collar to wrists to waist to ankles. A gag was wedged in her mouth.

The princess dropped the cup, which shattered on the floor. Solara climbed onto Eugene for safety as she whimpered and moaned in fear. Eugene nodded and said, "That's the kidnapper."

The headmistress, doctor and seneschal all stood and interposed themselves ready to defend the princess.

Gothel would have sneered at them, though her contempt was clear. 

The king nodded, his daughter’s fear was obvious. The two testimonies were enough, and ordered, "Have her secured." 

The kidnapper was removed from the room and taken to the prison.

The queen and the headmistress and Eugene were able to calm Solara. Soon, she had so many cups of broth her stomach was distended. She was also sleepy from the good food. 

The doctor told the maid to get more, but to take her time. The kitchen was to make quite a bit for the princess. He explained to the royal couple that it may take a couple of weeks before she is ready for solid foods.

“I’m not surprised she's scared of her. She gave her a terrible lashing, but I don't understand how she survived it, much less how ordering her to sing could do anything about it,” said Eugene as the princess began to doze on his shoulder.

At the word sing, sleepy Solara began to sing her special song. One of the only good things she had ever heard from her captor as she snuggled on Eugene. Everyone stared in wonder at the glowing hair, and then as the gray left the king’s hair, and the pain left the queen’s and headmistress' knees and back, the scars on the doctor's fingers healed and he grew young, Eugene’s legs felt strong again and wonder of wonders the princess herself began to glow all over, fill out and grow and age. She now looked like a 16 year old.

The hair had been keeping Solara alive by sheer dint of magic. Since she went weeks and months between feedings, there were limits on what it could do. Her body was like a perfectly formed machine, without any fuel to let it run. Finally, with access to protein and other molecular building blocks, it could finally start doing more. The magic could keep her alive and barely functional, but her body had just not been able to function properly without the needed inputs of nutrition.

“Whoa. What kind of magic was that?” asked the king, concerned.

“I have no idea,” the doctor replied. 

“But the princess is looking a lot better. Sing again, please,” the headmistress asked.

Solara sang again, but only the hair glowed.

“It didn’t happen the same way that time. Why?” Asked the queen. Everyone looked at each other.

“Food! That was the major difference. She needs food to effect herself!” exclaimed the now much younger looking doctor, after a moments intense thought. 

The doctor jumped up and ran to the kitchen to override his previous order. Her body could heal itself with the magic somehow and they needed to give her food so it could. They needed as much broth, honey and cream as they could get as soon as possible. They would be the easiest things for her to eat right now, until they could figure out how the magic worked.

They let the princess drink as much as she could and then asked her to sing. By the time the sun was rising the princess was looking like a normal 18 year old girl. The hair glowed but the princess herself did not, so they stopped and let her sleep.

The headmistress had never seen anyone make strides like this before.


	4. The Trial of the Kidnapper of the Feral Princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gothel goes on trial. The relationship between the queen and the princess begins to develop.

\- Chapter 4  
~ The Trial of the Kidnapper

Gothel was taken to the prison heavily guarded. She was not the old woman described by the king and queen, therefore she was a witch. As such considered very dangerous. After taking her from the royals, they took the simple expedient of knocking her out from behind by surprise so she couldn't put a spell on them. There were special instructions for dealing with the Kidnapper of the Lost Princess.

Gothel woke up as they were finishing the final bindings. She found she couldn't move, heavy iron bands secured her chest, waist and hips, more iron bands held each limb and joint, even her fingers and toes were secured. The iron felt warm, she had been unconscious for some time. She was not blindfolded nor did she feel any thing around her neck. Not that it mattered, the gag was secured to the large wooden table she was secured too, as was the band across her forehead.

She was flattered, they were treating her as if she was Maleficent herself. She wasn't much of a witch. She could conjure fog and a light breeze, strong enough to blow out candles and not much more, and a few other little things like that. She was gratified to see the guard blanch as she laughed through her gag.

"She's awake, sir," he called.

"Good. Time for the trial." Six men picked her and the wooden frame she was attached to up and carried her out of the prison.

The guards followed the Captain of the Guard to the courtroom and propped up the accused in front of the defendant’s seat. 

The Kingdom of Corona had a strong tradition of justice and mercy, so every attempt at fairness was made. 

The judge was introduced as the Chief Judge of the Kingdom of the Congo, Ota Benga. The other judges of the kingdom and, of course, the king had to recuse themselves as they were emotionally invested in the welfare of the princess and biased against the defendant. He was a pygmy, studying at the University of Corona, in an attempt to make the laws of his kingdom more fair.

One by one witnesses stood and gave testimony against the Kidnapper of the Lost Princess. The king and queen spoke of the incredible effort it had taken to become pregnant. The queen’s sickness and the gratitude they felt to the kingdom for the healing flower they brought to cure the queen. The heart-rending lost they felt for the kidnapping.

Flynn Rider aka Eugene Fitzherbert spoke of how he found the tower, and the girl. Everyone gasped as he described the kidnapper had forced her to lick up her own urine. Several men had to be restrained when he revealed the terrible punishment the kidnapper inflicted. A woman cleared the banister and almost made it to the helpless accused after he told how the princess reacted to the reward of hazelnut soup. As the courtroom returned to calm, Eugene requested extra security, which was put in place. Eugene then revealed that the princess had been naked under her hair. A groan of pure hate swept the courtroom. 

The Captain of the Guard moved away from the accused, his hands flexing in anger. He had to protect the accused, that was his duty. However, right now he was ready to rip out her liver and feed it to her, sautéed with apples and onions.

Eugene could feel the terrible weight of hate on the courtroom, and lightened the mood with an entertaining version of getting the princess into a nightgown he had found. Soon everyone was laughing and the worst of the mood dissipated. 

The Captain of the Guard and other officers recounted how they encountered Flynn Rider carrying the princess at the bridge.

The doctor and headmistress of the orphanage described her condition as they found her. How she had reacted when the kidnapper was brought before the king. The mood darkened again.

The judge turned to the accused. “You stand accused of kidnapping, torture, and abuse. You are also suspected of being a witch. So you have heard the testimonies against you. Do you wish to say anything to your defense? Blink once for yes and twice for no.”

She closed her eyes and then opened them. The Captain of the Guard unlatched the gag. 

“I was the one wronged here. I am the Freiin Gothel von Ellwangen. Where is the girl?” Gothel demanded.

“She is quite safe and in protective custody as she recovers,” explained the judge impassively.

“The flower was mine, it was on my land! The whole kingdom should stand for theft!” Gothel accused.

“It is illegal to deny any food to a pregnant woman, which is the case here. How do you plead?” countered the judge.

“I don’t have to answer to a runt like you!” shouted Gothel.

Ota Benga smiled and Gothel was taken aback. The small man had sharp, pointy teeth, like a monster from her nightmares.

“Insulting the court will not curry favor nor anger me. I’ve been at this too long. How do you plead?” The question was asked in a hard, no-nonsense tone.

“Guilty,” spat Gothel at him.

“Very well. Guilty,” and the gavel rang out. “The usual sentence for kidnapping in this kingdom is death by hanging. However, there is a special sentence just for you. The court will adjourn to the plaza balcony for the sentence to be carried out.”

* * *

Gothel certainly felt fear when they threw her over the plaza balcony, but she was left hanging upside down just above the ground. She was expecting something else, but wasn't sure what, they hung people in this kingdom. It was hard to think as all the blood rushed into her head. After a while her toes began to tingle a little as her heart worked to push blood to them.

The king was speaking. Telling of the return of the lost princess and her capture. He had told the crowd that the princess had been abused by the kidnapper and was recovering. The king’s voice broke then. The people gasped at the pain they could hear in his voice. Then a low rumble began to spread through the crowd. The king asked the audience to be silent as the queen meted out the punishment. 

Gothel could see the people of the kingdom, all who were watching quietly, and she could feel the heat of their hate. It was a little unnerving how quiet it was. Then the queen came into view, she was dressed all in white with her crown on. Was that her wedding gown? The queen bent slightly and looked hate right into Gothel's eyes. Gothel felt the base of her spine quiver as those huge green eyes bore hate into her soul. 

The queen quietly and calmly said, "I am Queen Rebecca. You stole my baby. I am going to drink your blood."

“What!?” Gothel’s mind didn’t want to comprehend that last calm statement.

The queen pulled out a small knife and Gothel felt the cut on the side of her throat, but it wasn't very big. 

“What the.... What do you think your doing!? You’re crazy! How dare you!” Gothel screamed as she felt the queen’s lips on her neck and the sucking.

After a while the queen stopped to breathe, she felt fingers on her throat and the queen said very calmly again, "I am Queen Rebecca. You stole my baby. I am going to drink your blood."

The fear grew in her belly, those eyes held nothing, but hate for her specifically. The queen began to drink again.

The crowd quietly began to chant “Die, die, die, die,” that matched the thudding of Gothel's heart.

“What kind of monster are you!” Gothel yelled. 

"I am Queen Rebecca. You stole my baby. I am going to drink your blood."

She couldn't feel her fingers and toes any more. She had to break that calm hate the queen had. She let loose a screaming string of all the expletives she had learned in over 500 years. The queen kept up a steady rhythym of suck and swallow on her exposed throat.

“Die, die, die, die.”

She was getting cold in the warm sun. She couldn’t let the queen had the satisfaction of winning this contest. She had to break the queen, make her react in some way.

"I am Queen Rebecca. You stole my baby. I am going to drink your blood."

The queen was really going to do it. Gothel didn't want to look into those hate filled eyes anymore, but there was no where else to look.

“Die, die, die, die.”

“If only our daughter could see you now,” taunted Gothel, but the queen kept up a steady pace of sucking.

Tears finally came to Gothel's eyes as she felt Death's hands on her hips, pulling her close.

"I am Queen Rebecca. You stole my baby. I am going to drink your blood."

“Die, die, die, die.”

“Don’t forget to wish our daughter a happy birthday.” Gothel whispered quietly with the last of her fading strength. Looking back into the eyes of the queen, but the queen did not break.

The queen did not stop until she had sucked and swallowed every last drop of blood from the body of the kidnapper. Which was taken down, cut into separate pieces, burned in separate fires and the ashes scattered.

* * *

Queen Rebecca walked calmly and steadily back to her rooms, her hands balled into shaking fists. She existed in an empty place of focused, fierce calm. She didn’t really see everyone including her beloved husband give way before her blood smeared face. Her stomach felt so full, pressing against the corset of her mother’s and her own wedding gown.

She entered her rooms, she wanted to change before retrieving her daughter from the headmistress of the orphanage. She had not wanted her precious daughter exposed to the trial and the punishment. 

Queen Rebecca stopped in front of the stand mirror. The precious dress was unspotted, she had done well in bleeding the kidnapper. However, her face and hands were smeared with blood. She carefully moved to the side table with the porcelain pitcher and washbasin. She poured the water into the basin and scrubbed her hands with the soap. She scrubbed and scrubbed, the blood was gone from her hands, but not her soul.

“That witch had taken her miracle baby and she would never do that again!” The queen thought fiercely as she pulled out a washcloth and scrubbed the blood from her chin and cheeks. 

She had executed the kidnapper herself. She had watched the body start to be burned. Men would be taking the ashes to the forest to be buried, the North Sea and the Mediterranean Sea to be scattered.

She reached behind her and began to undo her mother’s wedding dress, a special gift. She missed her mother so much sometimes. It had been so long. She put the dress carefully on the bed and went back to the basin to scrub more of that feeling off.

But why wasn’t it enough!? Why was she still so empty inside? That witch had dared call her daughter, her miracle baby, “our daughter.” She had been stronger then the kidnapper, though she has wanted to rip her lungs out through her nipples for an instant.

Her heart pounded in her ears from the strong hatred she was still feeling. She could barely see straight. She wanted to scream in frustration. She picked up the pitcher and smashed it down on the basin splashing bloody water and shards of porcelain on her undergarments.

A whimper snuck past the sounds of tinkling porcelain.

Rebecca dropped the handle of the shattered pitcher and spun around. In the far corner, partially hidden behind the wardrobe, was her fearfully crying daughter hidden under a pile of her golden blonde hair.

Solara knew she was seen and prostrated herself toward her real mother. 

“Good girl, no punish.” She pleaded from the floor.

Rebecca’s heart leapt to her throat. She hadn’t wanted her daughter to see her like this, “I’m sorry. Good girl, no punish.”

Solara looked up uncertainly. Rebecca approached and knelt in front of her daughter. “You are a good girl. I punished the bad woman that hurt you. You will not be punished by that bad woman ever again. I love you.” She pulled up her daughter and held her in her arms.

The headmistress came in, and was surprised to see the queen back already on the floor with her daughter. “Oh, what happened? I’m sorry. I needed to go to the bathroom.” 

“It’s okay. I understand. I left early. The ...part they are doing right now is going to take a while but I couldn’t stay anymore,” explained the queen.

Rebecca looked to her daughter. “I scared her. I was still angry when I came in here. I didn’t see her. I broke the pitcher and basin in my anger. She was expecting to be punished.” 

Solara whimpered a little upon hearing the work ‘punish.’

“No, no. Not you. I love you and will never punish you like she did. I punished the bad woman that punished you. You are my good girl,” reassured Rebecca.

“Here, let’s move to the love-seat, that’ll be easier for all of us,” said the headmistress. They got up and the queen and the princess settled themselves on the love-seat and the headmistress covered them in the soft, yellow, satin-edged blanket the king and queen had given her that morning. 

“You like your birthday present, don’t you?” asked the headmistress.  
The princess nodded as she snuggled down with her mama, “Good.”  
Rebecca felt a surge of emotion, but she fought back with the sure knowledge that she had not forgotten her daughter’s birthday this morning. The kidnapper’s parting words had enraged her, but she knew she was the good mother. 

There would be cake tonight and the lantern launch. Hopefully, she would be able to do that much, even if not go into the people which no one thought she was ready for. One step at at time. They would get through even this.

Rebecca began to sing, “Baby mine, don't you cry  
Baby mine, dry your eyes  
Rest your head close to my heart  
Never to part, baby of mine  
Little one when you play  
Don't you mind what you say  
Let those eyes sparkle and shine  
Never a tear, baby of mine  
If they knew sweet little you  
They'd end up loving you too  
All those same people who scold you  
What they'd give just for  
The right to hold you  
From your head to your toes  
You're not much, goodness knows  
But you're so precious to me  
Cute as can be, baby of mine”

The headmistress smiled and closed the door quietly behind her as the queen and the princess fell asleep together.

Author’s Note: That song is the lullaby from Dumbo.


	5. The Return of the Feral Princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes: I don’t have enough time before Christmas to put these in their own chapters, so they are all together here. The first chapter is how Margaret is feeling about the Lost Princess as she is getting the broth. Then how the lantern ceremony went down this time and finally the King and Eugene have a little talk.

\- Chapter 5

 

~ To Save the Feral Princess

Margaret the Lock Maid was running down the cream-colored corridor as fast as she could. She couldn’t cry yet. She had to get to the kitchen, the doctor needed broth for the Lost Princess. They were depending on her to save the princess. 

She slid through the corners. She threw all propriety to the wind and slid down the banister. She had pledged her life to protect the princess, but right now the princess just needed broth to live.

The Worst Case Scenario was that the princess returned as an evil apprentice to Maleficent with the intent of ruling the world, not that it would be that obvious, of course. Most everything that would they would have to do in that case was hair-raising, and only somewhat likely to save the world, even when they lost the royal family and Corona. 

The Best Case Scenario was that the princess was found by someone and raised as their own. 

The Most Likely Scenario assumed she wasn’t dead, but would have been abused. The Lock Captain had done extensive research into kidnappings and child abuse. He had created a plan that combined together what he had found in cases where the children lived, so often they died.

The reality of the princess was so much worse than the descriptions in the plan.

Margaret slammed through kitchen doors, the minimal night shift spun as she slid to a stop. 

“The Lost Princess has returned. The doctor says she needs broth.” Margaret panted. The kitchen workers just turned back to their duties. 

The hulking night chef waddled his rotund bulk over to her, his big wooden spoon loose in his grasp. “Broth, huh? Yeah, yeah. Last time it was Cherries Jubilee. We’ve been pranked before.”

With a growl, Margaret leapt up at the heavy-set man. Roaring in frustration she flipped him to the ground, smoothly disarming him of his spoon in the process. “The doctor needs broth to save the actual Lost Princess! She has been abused and broken and we are trying to keep her alive! GET ME BROTH! Or I will debone you with your own spoon and cook you into broth myself!” the Lock Maid snarled. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He choked out as her knee was on his diaphragm and his spoon at his throat. 

A pot clanged behind her. Margaret spun, teeth bared, as she heard clanking, but it was just the panicked-looking soup chef splashing broth into a tureen on a small cart. He slapped the lid on the tureen as Margaret scrambled toward it. The Lock Maid hugged to her bosom, splashing and burning her chest a little, clamped the lid on with her hand and took off running. The cart would be too slow and the Testing Chamber had a full tea setting. The princess could drink from a teacup or something.

The princess had to live, she just had too!

 

~ To the Lantern Ceremony

“I see a beautiful, good young lady,” said Queen Rebecca to her daughter princess Solara. As they were looking in the big mirror in the princess’ room. They were almost ready for the lantern ceremony. It was the princess’ birthday, the kidnapper was dead, the Lost Princess was home and they were going to celebrate it. The Lost Princess Returned smiled back tentatively, unsure of what to make of all the attention.

The queen had bathed her baby this morning before the trial, it was something she had missed doing for nearly eighteen years. They had not cleaned the hair as it had too full of tangles, dirt and stuff from the forest. The queen had set several maids to brush it and untangle it while she went to the trial. She had left strict orders not to bring knives or scissors near the princess, while she left to testify. It had been remarkably easy to brush and untangle the hair. It was still dirty, but they got the worst of it out and could begin to see the golden blonde hair under the dirt. 

There were just too many things going on, for all what they wanted for the princess. The headmistress of the orphanage and the royal doctor were supervising the care of the princess as they took turned testifying. They let her drink broth and cream with honey, but she was doing so well they were feeling confident that the princess could have a small piece of her birthday cake after the sky lantern launch in the evening.

The princess was fitted for a dress while the queen executed the kidnapper. The seamstresses had altered one of the queen’s dresses to fit the princess. A pretty lavender dress that looked so nice on her. 

The queen led her baby to the doors to the plaza balcony, where they met the king and Eugene. Solara dashed over to Eugene as she saw him and hugged him close. Then she hugged her papa who began to cry from happiness. The doors opened and they could see the glowing sky lantern held down by its ribbons. 

“Remember, do what I do,” whispered Rebecca to her baby. Solara nodded.

The plaza was crowded with quietly waiting people. They knew from what had been revealed at the trial that the kidnapper had abused and broken the princess. They didn’t want to spook her. 

The royal family reached out and lifted the glowing lantern free of its ribbons and let the signal of joy fly into the night. Everyone else lit their lanterns and signaled to the world that the Lost Princess was finally home.

“Oooo. Good,” said the Lost Princess Returned as she put her arms around Eugene and her head on his chest as she watched the lanterns fill the night sky. 

They stood and watched until the sky lanterns had flown far away then the royal family went inside and had a little bit of the princess’ birthday cake and then went to bed. It had been a very big day.

 

~ What about Eugene?

“So Eugene what are we going to do with you?” asked King Leonard from behind his big heavy desk in his study. This question has been hanging over them the past few days. The kingdom was holding a quiet and subdued celebration for the Lost Princess Returned.

Things were calming down and Princess Solara was making some good progress growing up.

”Please, sir. Let me stay.” Eugene said simply. His worst fear right now was being sent away from Solara.

“I have no intention of sending you away. Solara needs you as much as she needs us. She goes to you every time she sees you. No, why are you still here? I would have gladly emptied the vaults to reward you. Flynn Rider would have taken the reward and ran ages ago. Why not you?” The king leaned back and steepled his fingers in front of him.

“Because I’m not Flynn Rider anymore. He wanted an island and lots of money to be alone with, so he didn’t need to be around people anymore. I’m Eugene Fitzherbert, and I just need to be near your daughter.” Eugene was trying not to plead, but wasn’t being very successful at it.

“You are in love with my daughter. That much is painfully obvious to anyone with eyes. How did that happen? From what you said you didn’t spend all that much time with her before bringing her home,” asked the father of the Broken Princess.

Eugene reddened, it hadn’t been much time, but it had been enough. “Okay, I did sorta gloss over a few minor things when I told you what happened at the tower.”

The king raised an eyebrow at him. Eugene looked around. “Fine, not so minor, but after how the queen reacted to the kidnapper, do you blame me?”

The king let out a breath and shook his head. He had known what his wife wanted to do to the kidnapper, but the reality had been even worse than he had imagined. “Fine, what really happened?”

“Well, after escaping from Max, I fell through a curtain of vines and found the tower. I climbed the tower for the thrill of it and it looked like it might have something valuable inside. I found that hair and followed it to the door under the stairs and found a chained girl inside. I knew immediately that something was very wrong. She was being kept like an animal. That was wrong. There had been a few kids like that in the orphanage and we were extra kind to them, they were so ...broken.” He wanted to use a different word, but it was the only real word to use. 

“She kept running from me and she upset the bucket, then we heard the kidnapper coming up the stairs. I dove under the bed to hide. The kidnapper saw the spill and made her lick it up. Every time her head came up she looked at me, but didn’t give me away. Then she was punished. In the orphanage we were lashed if we were really bad, but usually only five or so. Someone would look in the window where we could see to give us hope and strength. But it still hurt. She prostrated herself between the kidnapper’s legs, her hands were stretched out toward me.” Eugene laid his hands on the desk, he wasn’t seeing himself in the king’s study anymore.

“I laid my hands in front of hers, in the shadow, but close enough I could feel the warmth of her on my fingertips. Solara was looking right at me. The kidnapper didn’t stop at five or ten or even forty. I can’t remember how long it took, but it felt like an eternity, she was being punished because of me. I gave her something then to help her through the punishment.”

“What?” the king asked quietly.

“My heart,” whispered Eugene.

The king got up and dragged a chair next to Eugene’s. “Yes, you did. But I don’t think she knows what to do with it, yet.”

“No, not really.” Solara was a good girl, but while her body was about 18 years old, they weren’t exactly sure since the magic had done some odd things, she looked so much older than when he had found her. Her mind was much younger, and everyone was hoping she would be able to make progress, though so many of the abused children in the orphanage had problems the rest of their lives. With the help of the headmistress of the orphanage she was making good progress.

“But I do. When she is ready, you will get my blessing to marry her.”  
Eugene’s head snapped up, this was completely unexpected, he didn’t know if she would ever be ready to marry him.

“This not just for altruistic reasons. I won’t live forever. She is not fit to rule. We need an heir for this kingdom.” Eugene nodded at the sadness in the king’s voice. 

“We can arrange a council of Regents and a Steward to care for the kingdom until a child of hers is ready to take the throne. I’ve seen how you’ve cared for her and supported her in her lessons and daily life. I know you will make a good husband and father. You are a good man. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Your Majesty. And thank you.”

“Call me Leonard.”

“Yes, sir.” 

Leonard rolled his eyes.


	6. The Feral Princess Makes Some Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet the little braid girls and the Queen writes to Queen Leah from Sleeping Beauty.

\- Chapter 6

~ The Feral Princess Makes Some Friends 

Mark the Lock Guard carefully scanned the street. It wasn’t crowded and people were curious about the princess but giving her space to explore. The people were trying not to scare their broken princess. 

It had been a few weeks since the return, and it was hot out. Now that the princess could control her bowels effectively; the royal family thought it was a good time for her to see more of her kingdom. The evening breeze had come up and the island was cooling nicely. 

Captain Taygon was out front, Sargent Gabriel was across the street, James was on the right and he was taking up the rear. Dear Margaret was near the princess ready to see to her needs. 

Margaret and himself had been made part of the princess’ primary security detail. The king had called her into his study about getting a complaint from the night kitchen staff. She had been frightened of being removed from the Lock Maids, when she had seen Captain Taygon there with the king. The king and captain had been looking quite stern.

* * *

“The night chef claims you threatened him, when you asked for broth,” said the king as he sat behind his large desk.

“Yes, sire.” Margaret had replied, standing at attention, though her insides felt like they were trying to strangle each other.

“Why?”

“Because the princess was in trouble. The headmistress said she wasn’t sure how she was still alive. The doctor said she needed broth to live. I could do the one thing she needed to live and they made light of it, sire. I didn’t really care to hurt any of them, but the princess needed the broth, as quickly as possible. There wasn’t much time, that much was frighteningly obvious.” Margaret replied.

“What did you threaten him with, exactly?” Asked the king, cocking his head.

“Deboning and cooking him into broth, sire.” Margaret replied precisely, though she blushed.

“Deboning...” The king began, trading a look with his Lock Captain. Then the king began to laugh. Margaret’s insides went limp, it was a good thing she had locked herself into attention stance or she would have fallen.

“Very well. However, I cannot have the staff fighting each other. And just to make sure you never do it again, I am promoting you to First Maid to the Princess. The added responsibility ought to keep you occupied.”

They had fallen into bed giggling madly after she had told him of what happened.

* * *

Mark tried not to gaze at his new wife too much; they were on duty and had to protect the princess. They’d get plenty of time to look at each other and more later.

The princess was holding Eugene’s and the queen’s hands, she was often pointing and looking at wonder at all the many new to her things.

They had walked past the stables and the wharves of the harbor. The smell had distressed the princess, but it had everyone so they didn’t stay long. They were coming to the bridge and would be working their way back up to the palace.

The princess’ hair was a bit of a bother to deal with. Once cleaned it was a beautiful golden blonde. Seventy feet of magic hair was a lot of hair. She was content dragging it along behind her but that wasn’t ideal, but good enough most days.

For the tour the maids had braided it but it only reduced the length slightly. They put some of the hair up, but that was only a small fraction of the hair as well. They had finally just draped it around the princess like a toga. Which mostly worked, but it fell off her shoulder rather often.

Mark saw Eugene pass the princess to the queen and walk over to four little girls braiding their hair on the edge on the fountain.

“Hi, girls.”

“Hello, Prince Eugene.” The eldest girl replied. Eugene had been given lands and was made Prince Consort to the princess a few days ago. 

“I wonder if you’d like to do the princess a favor?” asked Prince Eugene. “She has a lot of hair, and I am wondering if you could braid it so it won’t be in her way.”

They all gasped in pleasure. Staying close around Eugene they approached the princess, who went all shy and hid behind her mama a little.

“It’s okay, dear. This is good.” Encouraged Rebecca. The girls were bouncing on the balls of their feet but trying to be respectful. Solara was beginning to smile back at the happy girls.

Soon Solara was kneeling and the girls were all having a grand time braiding the hair. It took a few tries to get it short enough for the princess to stand and not drag the hair. The royal family was standing around smiling. 

“Good.” The princess declared after spinning around to see it.

“What do we say, dear?” asked the queen of her daughter, with a gentle smile.

“Thank you. Love you.” said Princess Solara, who knelt and hugged each of the girls. 

Mark was keeping his eyes out for any potential threats. He could see people slowly walking around the princess and royal family; sometimes coming back after a few minutes. The people were trying to see the princess without being a bother or scaring her. It looked like the princess made some new friends, and that was good.

~ Christmas Letters

Queen Rebecca was reading the Christmas letter from Queen Leah in her sewing room, where she did the queen’s business. There was a special file for their correspondence; Rebecca would go through the old letters from time to time to keep her hope up. She pulled out the last few letters to remind herself of all that has happened since her baby came home.

Over the years they had become friends, neighboring kingdoms both with princesses, daughters, babies that were lost. They had consoled and heartened each other over the years and leagues. They had visited each other a few times to put faces to the names and voices to the words. They were lifelines to each other across the endless melancholy of missing their daughters.

It had been difficult to write to tell Leah that Solara was home, knowing Leah was still waiting. But there were only a few months left until the curse was broken for her. That had been hopeful still. 

That had been the easy part. It was harder to write that her daughter had been horribly abused, that Solara had grown up locked in a small, dark room at the top of a hidden tower deep in the forest. To admit on the paper and to herself that her miracle baby was broken.

Rebecca wiped away a tear before it could roll down and stain the letter. Leah’s miracle baby had come home, right on schedule. Though the curse had been accomplished, Phillip and the Three Good Fairies had defeated Maleficent. Then war had broken out with the goons. Aurora had fallen into melancholy once she learned that Phillip was gone. Corona had sent troops and supplies to their friend’s aid. In an attempt to cheer her up they took her to the village but she was magically teleported to the Forbidden Mountain. In a massive push, they attacked the Mountain, and a magic spell destroyed all the goons. Eventually they broke into the Forbidden Mountain and found the princess asleep on a stone bed in a high tower. Phillip was able to kiss her awake again. She had told them that she had destroyed the goons, but then found Maleficent and she had been cursed again. She didn’t know what happened to Maleficent. The Three Good Fairies had disappeared as well. 

The next letter had extolled how well Aurora had been doing in princess lessons and her tutoring, the Three Good Fairies had done an excellent job teaching her how to be a princess. Leah had been worried; the Three Good Fairies often seemed like they didn’t understand so many human things. How Phillip and Aurora were going to be married and the desire she had for her friend to come, if she could, but would understand if she could not. 

Rebecca hadn’t been able to go. She had to help with her daughter, though she picked out an extra special gift for the royal couple. She loved her baby so much, and she did most of the work to teach her the simple basic things. Among other things, she now knew how to dress herself and how to go to the bathroom when she felt a poopie coming. Solara had never even been fed enough to have ever even make feces since she was taken. She had felt white-hot rage boil the blood in her veins at the kidnapper, wishing she had taken longer to kill Gothel. Solara had run for a corner and hid herself in her hair as the realization of what that meant had hit Rebecca. Rebecca had gotten herself under control and calmed her baby. After her baby was asleep for a nap she had gone to her private library and raged like she never had before.

This letter held some bad news, King Hubert had died suddenly. It wasn’t really much of a surprise, he being so old and all, but he had seemed in fine health not long before. Phillip was now king and Aurora was queen and they had moved to their kingdom. Leah was going to go for the holiday. She was worried that she wasn’t really getting to know her own daughter. Leah still felt a distance from Aurora.

In other news, they had found Maleficent and the Three Good Fairies on the side of the Forbidden Mountain, it looked as though they had had a battle and had turned each other into stone. Their wands were missing, and an alert was going to all the kingdoms. If those magical objects found their way onto the magical black market there could be trouble. Agents would be sent to Ulm to see if they showed up there. Rebecca made a note to tell Leonard about that before the official letter came. Maybe she should talk to Eugene as well, Flynn Rider might know about what happens there.

Rebecca picked up a sheet of paper and a quill and gathered her thoughts as to what to write her friend. She could not help but feel a twinge of envy for her friend. Her daughter was home, strong, intelligent and successful: sixteen and a queen already. Her own eighteen year old daughter was mastering her ABCs and beginning to form complete sentences. She still tended to use single words to try and express herself. Rebecca smiled a tremulous little smile remembering the tearful pride she felt in her daughter reciting her ABCs all the way though without any prompting. 

Solara could count really well up to 500 even, but why she could made red hot fire seethe in Rebecca’s veins. However, Solara was doing well with addition and subtraction.

One thing she had not told her friend was a secret about her daughter. There was some kind of magic in her. The power of the healing flower had gone into her daughter, but it appeared to work differently now. Her daughter could make people young, they had seen its effect on the doctor, headmistress and herself but it made her daughter older. They didn’t understand the magic, and with Solara not really able to understand what was happening, they didn’t think it was right to experiment on her. Solara hadn’t used the magic in months. Rebecca didn’t want her daughter to get any older, not any faster than she was. If only it could reverse time for her daughter and make her a baby again it wouldn’t be so bad. So they kept going. There were all alive and together again. There was still hope. They would get through even this.

Their people had been so happy that their princess was back, but the rumors that she had been abused and wasn’t “normal” could not have been stopped. The sadness that had infected the kingdom since her kidnapping had changed with her return, but there was a certain hopeless feeling lingering over the kingdom now. The Lost Princess Returned was now the Broken Princess. 

Rebecca repeated to herself that it had taken a miracle to conceive their miracle baby, another magical miracle to get her to be born and yet another for her to come home. They were hip deep in miracles all the time. They would get through even this, but in her heart there echoed the question, why didn’t it seem like enough?

Rebecca wiped her tears, dipped her quill and began to write a letter that was upbeat and hopeful for her friend, maybe it might even work for herself.


	7. A White Christmas For The Feral Princess

\- Chapter 7  
~ A White Christmas For The Feral Princess

The king was asleep on his bed. His bride was behind him. It was nice and warm under the feather comforters. His eyes flew open as heard the door quietly creek open, it was a sound that stalked his nightmares. 

There was the patter of bare feet and then the wumpf of a body landing on the bed.   
“Morning!” said Solara brightly as she bounced slightly. 

“Good morning, my dearest daughter,” said Leonard, rolling over and sitting up. She might have the body of an eighteen year old, but her mind was much younger. She had been completely neglected and abused by the Kidnapper and in many ways she was developmentally behind. The headmistress of the orphanage and the tutors were praising her often and she was making progress. She was a little big for these morning attacks, but he didn’t have it in his heart to reprimand her. He had missed her so much and this gave her such joy and he didn’t really mind it either. 

She enveloped him in one of her wonderful hugs. Then she sat up and said “White!” 

“Complete sentences, dear, please,” Mama reminded her as sat up. Solara had a tendency to use just one or two words when talking. They were encouraging her to use complete sentences. 

Solara sat for a moment formulating her thoughts. “It’s all white outside. It’s so pretty. What is it?”

Rebecca smiled. “That’s snow, dear.”

“Snow,” said Solara slowly trying out the new word on her tongue. 

“Do you want to play in it? It’s fun.” said Leonard.

“Dear,” said Rebecca admonishingly, but he didn’t care. He was the king and his daughter had never played in snow before and he was going to fix that himself. He put on a robe and slippers and walked to the garden door. They had moved to the garden level now that the kidnapper was dead and their miracle baby home. 

He opened the door and scooped some up and licked it to show that it was edible. He held out his hand. Solara came over and licked some too. “Cold.... It’s cold.” she corrected herself.

“Yes, and soft.” He took her hand and dumped the snow on her hand. 

“Ooh,” she cooed, fascinated.

“But you can make it hard.” He closed her hand around the snow to make a small snowball. 

“And you can throw it too. If you want a snowball fight,” called Eugene as he appeared at his garden door. He tossed a snowball lightly at them. It splattered in a flurry of flakes against the door. Solara squealed as the cold snow settled on her. 

“Oh yeah,” said Leonard with a smile. He gathered up a double handful of snow and returned fire. Rebecca and Solara snuck out the other door and soon Eugene was caught in a crossfire and surrendered. 

“Oh, you got me.” He staggered out dramatically and fell over. Solara rushed over, concerned, and found him making a snow angel. She flopped down and made one too. Their wings just touching. 

They all worked together to quickly make a snowman with rocks and twigs to make the face and arms. But they were all shivering by the time they were done. Solara wrapped herself in her hair to keep warm. They went back into the royal bedroom and found servants had laid out fresh clothes, built up the fire and a nice breakfast with tea and hot chocolate. The women went into the dressing room to change as the men went to their respective rooms.


	8. The Feral Princess And Her Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting ready for Christmas Eve.

\- Chapter 8  
~ The Feral Princess And Her Friends

The queen went into the solarium where Solara and the others were having a lesson with the Headmistress of the Orphanage, Elsbeth Hildegard. Solara was slowly reading a book out loud, with Elsbeth gently correcting her on the more difficult words. They were all facing the cheery fire that burned in the central fireplace. 

The Little Braid Girls were finishing up Solara’s braid for the day. They had such fun creating a new style every day. Today had an intricate pattern that reminded the queen of the tail of a fish and her daughter looked like a mermaid as they draped it behind her and spread the hair a little to form a tail.

The girls gave themselves applause since it looked so beautiful. Solara turned to see it, smiled and said, “Thank.”

“Ah, ah, dear. Use a complete sentence, please.” Rebecca said as she approached. They were trying to encourage the princess to speak and use more words then just grunts and gestures. They had to be quite careful in how they corrected the princess. Any harshness in a voice would send the princess into a corner, hiding in her hair, and whimpering in fear.

“Mama!” Solara bounced up, rushed to her mother, threw her arms around her and burrowed her head into her mama’s shoulder. Rebecca held her daughter close in a good hug. Rebecca felt herself relax as her miracle baby held her. The hugs her daughter shared were so unlike hugs she had ever gotten from anyone else. You felt sweet, innocent love flow into you when she did. They had been emotionally challenging at first. Well, they still were, but Rebecca was beginning to get used to it now. She didn’t break down in sobs every time, now she could mostly keep the tears in her eyes.

“Don’t forget to thank them properly,” Rebecca reminded her daughter, through her thick voice.

“Yes, Mama.” The princess looked down, sorry that she had forgotten, but she went over and hugged them all and then said, “Thank you very much, for braiding my hair so beautifully. Aubrey, Bethany, Celeste, and Deidree.”

“You’re welcome, Princess,” answered Aubrey, the eldest, for them all.

“Well done,” complimented Rebecca. The princess had basically hijacked the children to be her friends; not that their parents minded them taking lessons with the princess. 

“Okay girls, I know it’s early, but it is Christmas Eve and the princess has some duties to get ready for. Headmistress Hildegard needs to prepare the orphanage and your mother needs some help I am sure. Stop by the kitchens for a surprise. Merry Christmas,” said the queen smiling. There were a couple of baskets filled with fresh bread, jams, fruitcake, stollen, cookies and other things for that beloved family. 

“Merry Christmas,” the girls and the princess said. The girls curtsied and then left walking reservedly, but with some big smiles.

“Elsbeth, thank you for all you are doing for us. There are presents and food being sent to the orphanage so it will be easier for you,” said Rebecca, smiling.

Elsbeth gave the queen a ‘you shouldn’t have’ smile, but there was no point denying the queen her gifts. They had worked together for years, as the queen oversaw the orphanage and the schools, now they were so much closer. Elsbeth had become friends with the queen over the last few months, since the princess returned. 

The princess needed an enormous amount of love and teaching so she had a chance to become normal. They had to be careful and gentle with her all the time. At the moment it did not look as though she would ever be able to handle the rigors of reigning. The focus for now would be to teach her so she could take care of herself and become a mother so the kingdom might have an heir. It wasn’t an ideal solution, but it was a solution to fulfill what the kingdom needed.

Princess Solara was a good and gentle girl, so loving and kind. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to Solara, or her family or her kingdom. So many miracles had been needed to get this far, but it didn’t seem to have been enough. 

Elsbeth had had to deal with a number of broken children like Solara, and she was making very good progress, but it would take years to make up what was lost, if they ever could. The kidnapper had broken the princess, and it was hard on everyone to know that. Elsbeth had found the queen’s punishment of the kidnapper to be enough for her. 

She and her husband cared for and protected the lost children of the kingdom as if they were her own. They were going to start looking for replacements in the new year. Her husband was getting too old for the rigors of so many children; she was feeling better than ever since the princess came home. 

Elsbeth loved the children she had to care for, even if she was barren, or at least had been. Now, by some miracle, she was pregnant. She was finally pregnant! She and her husband were happy in ways that were hard to express. She couldn’t trade her miracle for a miracle for the royal family, but she wished she could.

The princess had magic in her and it looked like it had made her younger at the expense of the princess getting older. At least, that was the theory. That is what they had seen happen. The princess was steadily learning words. Hopefully soon, she would be able to express herself and understand enough so they could find out what the magic did. 

“Thank you. Rebecca. You are too kind,” replied Elsbeth as the queen helped her up.

“No, not really. Everyone is so kind to us. Can we do any less?”

“I know you well enough to know that you can’t. Especially this time of year. Merry Christmas.” Elsbeth said with a smile, giving the queen a hug. Solara loved hugs and it was becoming contagious.

Solara was bouncing on the balls of her feet waiting her turn for a hug.

“Merry Christmas, Headmistress.” Solara said. Elsbeth smiled and gave the princess a hug. Solara nestled into the matronly woman and held on tight for a long moment, letting go when she felt the woman’s breathing begin to get unsteady and her eyes shone with tears.

“Merry Christmas, princess.” Elsbeth said, before she waddled off. 

Rebecca and her daughter sat down on a comfortable sofa in front of the warm fire. They folded their legs underneath them to keep their feet warm. Rebecca had a light streak in her hair, something she had since she was a teenager, and Solara now had a dark brown streak from the sample of hair Mortimer had cut to test the princess. 

“Solara, the people want to present you with a Christmas present tonight at the Christmas market. Papa will be speaking and so will a representative of the people.” Rebecca began.

“Yes, Mama.” Solara said brightly.

“There will be many things to see at the market. There will be food and clothes and toys for everyone to buy. It will be a lot like your gift storerooms. If it becomes too much, tell me and we’ll bring you home.”

“Yes, Mama,” said Solara subdued.

Solara remembered their visit to the gift storerooms. 

* * *

“Over the years people have sent us gifts for you, hoping that you would come home.” Papa had said as they entered a large storeroom.

“Gifts?” asked Solara.

“Presents,” said Mama.

“Nice things,” said Eugene, trying to be helpful.

Solara wondered about that. Hazelnut soup was a nice. She would get hazelnut soup if she took a punishment really well. She tried so hard to be a good girl. Home was so different from the dark place.

Mama picked up a snow globe and gave it a spin. 

“Ooh, pretty,” said Solara, gazing at the spinning liquid. Mama put the snow globe down and they looked at the other items. So much of it was pretty, but she didn’t know what most of it was. She could recognize some of it as clothes and bowls, but she knew that it was more complicated than that. There was a silver baby rattle that felt soothing. 

“Mama, why?” asked Solara. She needed to connect all this to something that made sense.

“People want you to have good things, because they love you.” Mama said as they were looking at a rack of clothes.

Solara was trying to understand that. The bad woman told her so many times she was a bad girl. She only got good things if she took her punishment good. There had been no punishments. She shouldn’t have good things. 

Mama, Papa and Eugene loved her. They hugged her. They touched her. They made her happy. She would do anything to keep them happy. She loved them, but they didn’t let her sing, which made her feel so good.

Solara was beginning to shake. It wasn’t making sense. Why didn’t things make sense anymore? The dark place was simple. Home was complicated. 

“Bad girl! Bad girl!” she shouted in tears. Her undeveloped mind could not handle all the good things she was being given. She didn’t feel she deserved good things, because for her whole life she only knew bad things.

Solara threw down some of the clothes meant for her.

“Solara, what are you doing?” asked her mama. They had learned the hard way to be very gentle with her, but this was different.

Solara couldn’t control herself anymore. There were too many contradictions in her mind. All she could do was act out by throwing things and screaming, “Bad, good!”

Mama, Papa and Eugene gathered her up into a big family hug, holding her tight to keep her from hurting herself, as she shook and flailed. Trying to ride out whatever was happening to their beloved daughter. 

“We love you. We love you.” Mama said over and over again, trying to sooth her child.

Eugene and the king were both saying, “Good girl, good girl.”

It took several long minutes before Solara exhausted herself and fell asleep in their arms.

* * *

“Yes, Mama.” said Solara, knowing her parents would protect her.

“Good girl,” Rebecca smiled. “Once you receive the gift you can hug the girl giving it to you. Then turn to the audience and tell them all, ‘Thank you, everyone, and Merry Christmas.’ Can you do that?”

“Give the girl a hug. Turn and say, ‘Thank you, everyone, and Merry Christmas.’ I can do that.” said Solara, enthusiastically.

“I know you can. Then we will go see the market, try food and meet people. It should be fun.”

“Okay. I like to meet people. New things are fun too,” said Solara. That was true, even if there were some limits. Solara could be overwhelmed when too many new things were happening around her. The two of them and Eugene would be keeping a careful watch on her, and there would be guards around them, not that the whole kingdom wouldn’t defend her to the last. But they might have to leave before seeing the whole thing. She would try to help Solara choose gifts for Eugene and Leonard.

“We first need to visit with the cobbler, to see if your boots are ready.”

“Yes, Mama.”


	9. Feral Rapunzel and the Boots

\- Chapter 9  
~ The Feral Princess And The Boots

“Hello, Your Majesty, Your Highness. Shall we try on some boots and see which ones you might like.” Said Hans Cobbler, the royal shoemaker.

Hans had made the princess some slippers and shoes but she didn’t wear them at all. The queen said the princess just preferred to go without shoes. It was hard to think he couldn’t please the princess.

He started with a fairly ordinary leather snow boot. Good sturdy boots suitable for spending time in the snow in. The princess watched him in wonder as he put the socks on her feet and then the boots. He had taken the measure of her feet not long after she arrived home, and had made a model to work from. 

“There now. How does that fit?” Asked the shoemaker.

The princess looked all puzzled, she was trying to move her feet, but it wasn’t working right with the boot on.

“Stand up, dear and walk around,” encouraged the queen.

Princess Solara stood up. She almost tripped as she dragged her foot forward, the boot was heavy and she didn’t compensate for the new weight. Then she lifted her foot up much higher and clomped it down. 

She looked sadly at her mama, who made encouraging gestures. The princess picked up her skirts and clomped around the room and back to the sofa. 

“Why are you looking so sad, dear?” asked the queen.

“No floor,” said the princess.

“A complete sentence please, so we can understand,” corrected the queen, gently.

After a moment’s thought the princess said, “I cannot feel the floor.”

The queen and the shoemaker shared a look.

“Well, that’s the general idea. The boot is there to protect your feet from the cold and snow,” explained the shoemaker. “How about something softer?”

The princess nodded and he removed the leather boots and the socks, and came back with some soft fur lined boots. The sole wasn’t as thick, but they were lined with fur as soft as a lamb’s belly. It would keep the princess warm and without socks should provide more feeling.

He slipped them on, “Now, wiggle your toes to see if they feel comfortable.” 

She nodded.

The princess fell over, laughing hysterically. Hans was trying not to be offended, but this reaction was beyond odd. 

“Dear, are you alright?” asked Mama, her concern building, as her baby didn’t stop. The now laughing-so-hard-she-was-crying princess shook her head and pointed at the boots. 

“Off! Take the boots off, quickly,” ordered the queen as she got down on the floor with her daughter and held her.

Hans had to fight the princess’ struggles; she wanted to help but she couldn’t control herself. Once he got them off, the princess calmed down while hugging her mama. Soon, she could breathe normally again. “Sorry.... I am sorry. It made my feet feel all funny. I could not stop laughing.”

The queen got a wry smile on her face. “The boots were tickling you.”

“What is tickling, Mama?” asked the princess, looking up from her mama’s bosom.

The queen struggled with that question. So many things her baby didn’t know. “Ah, tickling is when, um... it is when you have to laugh because something is touching you.” 

Princess Solara still had a confused look on her face.

The queen got a wicked look on her face and said, “Like this.”   
The queen ran her fingers along her side of her daughter, who shrieked in laughter. 

“That’s tickling, dear. Don’t do that to anyone else yet. I’ll tell you how to do it properly after we find you some boots.” The queen was thinking that she really missed the tickle fights she had with her mother, even though she often hated them at the time. This was something she could share with her daughter, but there were certain proprieties that needed to be observed. She also realized that she needed to think that though.

The shoemaker was very studiously not looking at the queen and princess while digging around for another pair of boots. What was happening felt way more intimate then he was prepared for. He and his apprentice made shoes and boots for the royal family and the staff, and helped out with the military on occasion when there was someone with foot issues. Shoemaking was a nice quiet kind of work, he didn’t like loud noises. 

He came upon some boots that his apprentice had made not long ago. He had been trying to impress a girl, but they hadn’t impressed her. The poor boy, he was still moping about it. Well, he’d get over it. 

They were light, made of supple goatskin dyed a nice green with a leaf motif, with a flexible leather sole. The boot and laces wrapped around the leg. An unconventional design, something he might imagine fairy might wear. They were well-suited for dancing, not so much for outside work, but...they looked about the right size for the princess.

“How about these, Your Highness?”

The princess nodded, trying to please the shoemaker and her Mama.

He put the princess’ foot on the sole, brought the leaves of the boot around the foot and leg, wrapped the laces up and around and tied them off just under the knee.

“There now, how does that feel?”

The princess wiggled her feet and then stood; she took a few steps, and then danced around, skirts twirling. She stopped and smiled, “Good.” The queen gave her a look, “Um... The boots fit good. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, my apprentice is most skilled.” Said Hans bowing to the princess.

“We’ll have to congratulate him. Thank you, Hans.” Said the queen standing.

“You’re welcome. Merry Christmas, Your Majesty. Your Highness.”


	10. The Feral Princess And Prince Eugene

\- Chapter 10  
~ The Feral Princess and Prince Eugene

The queen and Solara found Eugene in the music room where an elderly harpist was playing carols.

“Solara, dear. Stay with Eugene. Papa and I need to finish a few things before the ceremony,” said Queen Rebecca.

“Yes, Mama.” Solara said, as her face bloomed into a magical smile and she rushed over to him to hug him.

Eugene stood in time to catch Solara and hold her tight, he could see the gentle smile on the queen’s face before she turned and left. He liked that smile. It was so much better then her tranquil fury face. That face scared men and nations. 

He remembered standing there as the queen came to stand between him and her husband as the body of the kidnapper was being taken down to be burned, her face smeared with the blood of the woman who had stolen her child. Everyone remained silent in terrified awe of the queen. He had wanted to be a lot further away than right next to her, like the far side of the planet, but he was certain that still wouldn’t be far enough. 

Being close to the king; he knew that crime in the kingdom had disappeared almost overnight and even relations with some quarrelsome kingdoms had calmed. There was no doubt as to why.

“So what boots did you get?” Asked Eugene to the girl he loved and had his arms around.

“Soft boots. See.” Solara stuck a foot out, with a smile.

Eugene could see it was a very pretty boot. It didn’t all that good a winter boot, but Solara was still figuring out the tradeoffs for things. It looked as though she chose pretty over warmth this time. Oh well, he’d made sure to ask Margaret to have a foot bath ready for the princess to warm her feet.

“They are very pretty. Did you get them because they are pretty?”

“No. I can feel floor good.”

“You can feel the floor good with them?” asked Eugene. Solara nodded and he could feel her swaying to the music, so they start to dance in front of the windows. The elderly harpist smiled gently and picked up the beat so it was better for dancing.

“Why is it important that you can feel the floor?” Wondered Eugene.

“Free,” smiled Solara. She spun away from him, her braid and skirt flaring. She danced with her arms outstretched, and a look of calm concentration on her upturned face. She returned to him and they came together as the song ended. They breathed hard for a few moments and she hugged him close again. 

Their’s was a bittersweet romance, that had completely devastated the Flynn Rider fangirls. Which was just as well, he wasn’t Flynn anymore. He was Eugene, Prince Eugene even, he laughed at himself, and he loved the most special girl in the world. She loved him in that way she loved everyone, with everything she had, but he imagined that the smile she had for him was a little more special then for others.

“New learn,” said Solara, brightly, as she put an arm around his waist.

“You learned something new today, huh. What?” Everything was so new to her and her joy in learning was wonderful. He tried to be a matching pupil when the king taught him things.

“Tickling.”

Eugene’s entire body clenched, expecting a tickle attack, but Solara just held on like normal.

“Really? How did that go?” Eugene asked, cautiously relaxing. Her sense of humor was still developing. She loved knock, knock jokes for some reason.

“Other boots tickled me, laughed so much. Mama teach me how to do it properly, later.” Solara explained casually.

“Oh boy. Sounds like fun,” said Eugene, trying to sound upbeat. The tickle torture in the orphanage had been brutal.

A beam of bright sunshine blazed through a break in the clouds. Solara dragged him over to the windows, held her face up and let those softly warming rays caress her cheeks like fluffy down. Eugene just held her around her waist as he too let the sun embrace him.

Soon the clouds hid the sun again. 

Solara put her head on his chest and said, “Thank.”

“Whatever for?” Eugene was surprised, they hadn’t done anything special, for them anyway.

“Sun. Home.” Solara said simply.

A chill slammed into Eugene from the top of his head down to his feet. By the time the trial had ended he knew that finding the Lost Princess had not been exactly accidental. Fate, destiny and a horse getting a bushel of apples for Christmas morning, had spent his whole life guiding him to that tower, opening that door to a dark room and finding this little girl.

He had gone through some terrible stuff in his life, but he didn’t, couldn’t, resent those things anymore. Not since all those things allowed him to bring home the most wonderful person in the world. Someone who had gone through so much worse. 

He pulled her close as the tears came, “You’re welcome, Solara. I love you so much.”

“Love more.” She said smiling.

“I love you most.” He smiled as they played the topping love game she had created when she had learned the progression of much, more, most. He kissed her forehead.

“Love forever.” She said seriously. She knew she was safe with Mama, Papa and Eugene. Home was safe. Home was good. Eugene was best.

They turned to look out the windows again. The sky was a pale blue, the sun a bright yellow through the heavy dark clouds lowering in the distance, there would be snow again later. The snow-covered kingdom lay below them as columns of smoke rose from chimneys everywhere. It was a view he was used to.

~ The Feral Princess and The Doll

Solara was sitting between her Mama and Eugene at the plaza balcony. Her legs tucked up under her, the boots were comfortable enough to do that. Her coat was warm. Her hands stuck in a warm fur muff in front of her, which was also tied behind her neck so she wouldn't lose it. It wasn’t all that late, but it was going to be dark soon. 

Papa the King was talking about love and caring and things that warmed the heart. 

Solara slumped onto Eugene’s shoulder as the representative of the city council almost put her to sleep as he droned on and on for a few minutes. 

Solara jerked fully awake, as mama touched her, since it was time for her to stand and accept the gift. She pulled a hand out of her muff and waved to the girl who smiled back, her hands were full with a package, the gift. 

The girl pulled a doll out of the package, it was large, had golden silk hair that reached to its feet, big jade eyes, dressed in a lavender dress and it looked like her. Solara gasped in surprise, she thought it was absolutely wonderful. 

“Pretty,” she said, and after a moment turned to the crowd. “It is very pretty. Thank you everyone so much for the gift. Merry Christmas.” 

“You’re welcome. Your Highness.” The girl held the doll out. Solara took it and held it close. It was a very good size for hugging. 

Several people in the audience went “Aww.”

“Love,” said the princess. She wanted to hug the girl, but the muff hanging around her neck in front of her, was in the way of doing it right so she tossed it over her shoulder. There were smiles throughout the audience at that, and the princess hugged the girl properly. 

After a few moments of a deeply loving hug, the girl sobbed. Solara showed her love with her hugs and you could feel it in your heart that she loved you deeply, no matter who you were. 

“What are you going to name your doll, your highness?” Asked the girl once she got herself under control. Solara thought for a long moment, looking at the doll. It looked so much like her, but it wasn’t her and needed a different name. She had been learning so many things, a new food she had tried and liked, rang in her mind. 

“Rapunzel. Her name is Rapunzel,” said the Broken Princess. Some people looked at each other. Naming a doll after a radish was odd, but then their princess was broken.


	11. The Feral Princess and the Christmas Miracle

\- Chapter 11  
~ The Feral Princess And Christmas Eve

The royal family wandered the Christmas market. It snaked its way through all the squares of the island. Vendors hawked their wares: fine woodwork, and delicate lacework and richly-colored fabric. There were fried doughnuts to eat, hot spiced cider, hot chocolate, roasted chestnuts and burnt almonds. There were so many things to see. 

Solara linked her arm with Eugene’s and Rapunzel rode on Solara’s other hip. 

Rebecca and Leonard walked behind them also with arms linked, just letting their girl explore on her own.

Rebecca thought that the doll was a good thing, Solara was talking to it and showing it things and it was giving them insight into their daughter as she verbalized things she normally did not.

“Look Rapunzel, pretty candles.” Said Solara, as they passed a stand filled with candles of all shapes and sizes.

A cold wind blew off Eugene’s hat and after a mad dash chasing it down the street they ended up in front of a pet shop. The bizarre smell that wafted out caught Solara’s attention and they went inside to warm up. Solara was astonished by all the animals in their cages. Dogs, cats, canaries, and more. 

Solara and Rapunzel had a grand time looking in each of the cages and finding all the animals and telling them, “Merry Christmas.” She was looking around excitedly in one cage that looked like it just had a knobbly stick in it, but sometimes the animals were hiding, and Solara and Rapunzel had great fun seeking for them. Her face fell when she didn’t see anything inside.

Then the stick looked back at her.

“Eek!” Solara jumped back, clutching Rapunzel to her chest.

The others rushed over in time to see a small green chameleon reveal itself on the stick. It waved and they waved back.

“Mama, what is it?” asked Solara. That was one of her favorite phrases.

“It’s a chameleon, dear. They can change color.” Said the queen and the chameleon proceeded to show them that he could indeed change color really well.

“Ohh, good,” said the princess. 

“Would you like him as a pet?” Asked Papa. It was getting to the point in her education that she needed to learn some responsibility and caring for a pet would be a good thing.

“What is a ...pet?” asked Solara, another phrase she has learned to use a lot.

“A pet is like a friend, but you have to help take care of them since they aren’t human.” Explained Leonard.

“Take care?”

“You’ll have to feed and bathe him, and clean up his cage. It won’t be hard.” Assured her father. The staff would clean up anything she missed, but she could take care of herself and now was a good time to learn to take care of another.

“Rapunzel. Good?” asked Solara of her doll. After a long moment.

“I can do!” said Solara and Leonard smiled, and went to talk to the shopkeeper.

* * *

It was beginning to snow again, the market sounded quieter then it was and the torchlight made the air glow. Solara caught some snowflakes on her tongue. 

They paused to look at the mosaic of the Lost Princess, and Solara showed Rapunzel what she had looked like as a baby.

Then Solara noticed a little boy hobbling past on a crutch, the lower part of his leg was missing. She tugged on her mama’s sleeve. 

“Hurt.” She said sadly.

Everyone came to a stop. The boy could tell the princess was talking about him.

“Yes, that boy is hurt, he is missing some of his leg,” said the queen.

“Boy, are you okay?” Asked the king.

“Well enough, your majesty,” said the boy.

“What’s your name?”

“Ah. Tim. Your majesty,” stammered the small boy. A bit of a crowd had gathered around them.

“What happened?”

“I played by the docks and a rope caught my leg and pulled it off.”

“Oh dear.” The Queen said sadly.

“Love?” Asked Solara earnestly. 

The queen looked at her daughter. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand, dear. A complete sentence, please.”

Solara thought, worried her hair and screwed up her face trying to find the right words. Finally, just repeated in a pleading voice, “Love?”

“Do you want a hug?” asked Rebecca, holding out her arms, but Solara shook her head.

“Do you want to hug him?” asked Leonard. 

His daughter bit her lip, thinking hard, but just shook her head.

“Love!” She said, pointing at the small boy’s leg.

“Do you mean give him alms?” asked the Eugene digging around and pulling out a gold coin. 

The boy looked down embarrassed; he didn’t like to beg, though he was pretty sure he’d have to start doing that soon, to help his family.

Solara shook her head, stamping her foot in frustration.

Leonard was seeing how frustrated his daughter was getting and trying to head off a tantrum in front of the whole kingdom, asked, “Can you show us what love is?”

Solara smiled and nodded. They hadn’t let her sing in months. The singing was love. Sometimes, late at night when it was all quiet, she would sing under her covers to feel the special love of her hair. It felt best when loving someone else. 

She gave Rapunzel to Eugene and knelt in the slush in front the small boy, who turned a really bright red since the Broken Princess herself was kneeling before him. 

“Love?” The Broken Princess asked.

Tim looked up at the royals, but all they could do was shrug.

“Okay,” said Tim.

She reached back and wrapped her braid around the missing leg and began to sing. 

“Oh, please don’t.” said the queen, reaching out as she understood what her daughter was going to do, but Princess Solara wasn’t listening as she was concentrating on the song. 

There was a general gasp as the hair began to glow. The glow streamed down the hair, the boy stumbled back but there were people to catch him and hold him up. The end of his leg glowed and extended and a foot grew and as the song came to an end Tim found himself standing on two feet, even if one was bare in the snow.

“I don’t understand, why didn’t either of them change age?” asked the queen, her jaw hanging loose.

“I have no idea. Maybe we were wrong about what it does.” answered the King.

“Love,” declared the princess Solara, in a final sounding way. 

Tears were rolling down Tim’s face as he hugged her. “I love you too.” 

“Tim. Are your parents here?” Asked the king. 

“Not right here that I can see.” said the boy looking around the surrounding people. 

“Well, you need to get some shoes before you lose your new toes to frostbite.” said Eugene. He handed Tim the gold coin he still had in his hand. 

“You there, guard!” called the king as he pointed to a passing guard. “What’s your name, soldier.”

“Private Hart, sire. Wolfram Hart.” The guard turned and saluted.

“Thank you. Wolfram, take this boy to the cobbler and get him some new shoes for his new foot.” The guard gaped at the order, but picked up the boy and took him to the shoemaker.

A young man came groping through the crowd. “Please, Your Majesties, please. I heard a miracle happened and a lame was healed. Please, is there a miracle left for me?” The man’s eyes were all white, he was blind. 

“Love?” the princess asked, looking to her parents.

The royal couple looked at each other. The queen bit her lip, she didn’t want anything bad to happen to her daughter, but it didn’t look like anything had this time. They both knew they had received many miracles in their lives. They knew they had to share with their people. The king nodded, the queen knelt in the snow next to her daughter and looked closely at her, looking for signs of stress or aging, but didn’t see any.

“Yes, you may, but if you start to age or hurt you’ll have to stop.” Rebecca said.

“No hurt.” Solara shook her head, and smiled, “Love.” 

They got up and came in front of the blind. Solara wrapped her braid around his head and sang again. Everyone was holding their breath waiting to see what would happen. News and rumor were racing through the city like a raging wildfire. 

The hair glowed, then faded. The hair was removed and the man looked at his hands and closed and opened them. He blinked. He looked up, his eyes were a warm chocolate brown. He reached out and shakily touched the smiling princess and then looked around the crowd. He fell to his knees. “I-I can see. Thank you, Princess, thank you.”

“Love.” said the princess as she hugged the weeping man.

A very pregnant woman waddled up and begged, “Please, it’s not my time and I’m bleeding. Can you love me too?”

A little girl with burns on the left side of her face, body and crumpled hand, the rest of the burns hidden by her coat begged with big eyes, “Please, I need love.”

“Are you sure you can do this? This is so many people. We don’t know what the magic does to you,” asked Rebecca, worried, but wanting to help the people.

“It’s okay, Mama. This is love,” said Solara, confidently and lovingly.

Men, women and children; anyone infirm, injured and hurting came to where the princess was, standing in the middle of a cobblestone circle before the mosaic of the Lost Princess. Her parents and Eugene were around her and holding her close.

She unbraided her seventy feet of hair, divided it into seven locks and wove it through the crowd of hundreds of injured and infirm. She closed her eyes, raised her voice to the heavens, and gleaming magic streamed down the hair. Light like the sun, lit up the kingdom as they became the symbol of their kingdom.

That night miracles happened and all eyes of the kingdom shown bright in that star light. Their princess might be broken, but she was their princess and she loved them and they loved her. 

She was their Miracle Princess.

And they all lived, and lived happily ever after.

~ The End ~

Merry Christmas 2012

Author’s Note: A very special thanks to Wolfram-and-Hart-Sauron who gave me the idea that the Feral Rapunzel AU needed some more love, beta-ed the story for me and helped me make it the best story I could for this Christmas. 

Some Christmas’ are white and others brown.  
Some filled with presents bright and others the memories of presents known.   
But we remember still the gift given so long ago and so far way.   
In a manger so poor.   
Life.


End file.
